His Name Is Merlin
by StrangelyPenned
Summary: There is a dangerous man who is the most powerful in all the world. But even after you have hurt him, you had better be thankful he is also the kindest... And that his name is Merlin. Slightly BAMF!Merlin.


**It's been a long time and (while writing the update for Movie Night) I decided that I **_**loved **_**the response readers gave me for Entertainment Around the Campfire.**

**This was written a long time ago, but I'm still unsure as to whether or not I should have posted it. I think it's a different genre from what you've seen from me before.**

There was silence for the longest time. Mordred stood behind the man he despised so much, confidence in his pose and arrogance written all over his face.

"I should strike you where you stand."

The voice was cold. Beyond cold. It was dark, it was laced with malice and _danger _dripped from its every pore. Unknowingly, Mordred took half a step backwards, his self-assurance dissipating like smoke. The man's face was turned from him, yet even now he was fighting the irrational urge to run.

But it wasn't irrational, was it? Mordred may have tried to quell it, but his instincts were telling him that this man was his enemy, that this man should be feared. That this man could kill him now without even moving.

"I should take revenge," the man continued, his voice covered with ice and hatred. "I should do to you what you did to her. I should make you see visions of terror. I should trap you in the spirit world where vengeful souls can enact punishments onto you. I should let creatures of dark magic play with your mind until your descent into madness, screaming and screeching for a salvation that would never come."

Mordred's legs were telling him to move. His mind was urging for him to flee this place at once, never looking back, never staying. But he couldn't move; his limbs frozen with a terror so great he was barely remembering to breathe.

And then it got worse, for the man spun to face him and in his eyes were golden orbs of such _power _that Mordred almost whimpered aloud. Their depths sang of levelling mountains and destroying civilizations, of ruling worlds and conquering minds and kingdoms alike. But there was something worse.

Because at the same time they were _kind_.

The man spoke again and Mordred shivered, as his words weren't tinted with an insatiable fury now. They were hollow and empty and said of nothing but despair. _But not defeat, _Mordred told himself. Never defeat.

"A dear friend of mine once told me that seeking revenge would make me as bad as you. I'm not going to do that today. You were not the one who tore out the mind and fragmented the soul of the very last blood family I have left. You did not ruin the life of the very person who brought me into this world. No, Mordred. That was Morgana, wasn't it?"

Mordred couldn't help but stiffen, couldn't help the gasp that escaped from his lips. How did he know? He couldn't know. But then, Mordred realised pitifully too late as he looked into the eyes that held untold wisdom, this man knew everything. This man always knew.

"You're going to leave now," the man continued and his voice hardened subtly. "You shall return to Morgana and you _will _tell her that the last Dragonlord is giving you one last chance. You will _realise _and _you will tell her_that Emrys is neither a fool nor a coward and he will _not _let this go."

The man took a step forward, his eyes narrowed slightly. Golden magic danced across his very being yet he didn't even seem to notice.

"You will understand that if you so much as _touch _the people I love, the people under my protection again ... You will face a fate _so_ _much worse_ than death. You will realise that trying to get to me through the people I love is a very, _very _bad idea and Mordred you will not even _look_ upon them again."

The man turned away slightly, having approached Mordred until they were standing face-to-face. But then he looked back up and his eyes were shadowed with a thousand different, flickering emotions nobody would be able to identify. The hints of blue and gold Mordred saw there were the very depths of this man's soul.

"You are going to leave now," said the man. "I am granting you mercy. However you should know that if you and the Lady Morgana _ever _threaten Albion again ... I will not hesitate to destroy you."

And suddenly Mordred found he could move again. He stumbled backwards and crashed into the door, before fumbling for the handle to open it. He flipped up his hood to conceal him in the shadows and took one last look at the powerful sorcerer before him.

His last thought as the night enveloped him like a shroud was that the words and _in_action today had not been the work of the mighty Emrys or indeed the Last Dragonlord.

Instead it had just been Merlin.

**I hope you enjoyed it.**

**Also, kudos to those who spot the occasional Doctor Who-sounding sentence, because some parts of that show inspired some parts in this. It was written upon finding out Mordred's coming in S5 though – I can't wait!**

**Read and review for me, pretty please? (:**


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